


The Friends We Find and Keep

by jesseofthenorth



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesseofthenorth/pseuds/jesseofthenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve makes a friend, and can`t quite figure out how to explain it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Friends We Find and Keep

**Author's Note:**

> _Prompt: Steve and a wily/crafty ferret get on like a house on fire, because this is Danny's life now. Can be Gen. Maybe the ferret stowed away on a ship to Hawaii, or it belonged to bad guys who put it in cage fights with other animals, but it escapes and Steve rescues it and it shows appreciation by being ninja and guarding the house or bringing him clues. Or Danny.  
>  Hell, it can be an otter or a mongoose, because Steve loves small, cute and deadly. Right? _
> 
> This is not 100% what you asked for, oh anonynous prompter, but it's the only direction the prompt would let me go.

See the thing is, growing up, Steve never had a pet. He wanted a dog but he would have taken anything. Well, OK, maybe not a fish because he ate fish and that would have been weird and gross. He'd just wanted.... something, someone to hang out at the beach with maybe. A dog would’ve been perfect. The answer was always  no, until he stopped asking. He didn't even think about it anymore by the time he got shipped to the mainland.

It didn’t really explain anything but knowing about that unfulfilled childhood longing and certain unfulfilled longings now.... well this thing makes more sense if you know some of the shit Steve has missed out on.

 

It starts with a warehouse full of bad guys—like a lot of things in Steve’s life these days.  
It might not have happened at all except he is still  raw from fighting with Danny. Well not so much fighting as sitting in the car listening to Danny not talk. Until Steve just starts taking his truck because he can't take it anymore and he can't think of anything to say that would fix it.

 

Because what seemed to start in the warehouse actually starts a couple of days before with a shot Danny would have never seen coming and Steve tackling him out of the line of fire, while the bullet cut a furrow across Steve's shoulder. After it's over Steve could only sit in the back of an ambulance with his head in his hands, and his mouth shut while Danny stood there smeared with his partners blood. He hadn't even bothered explaining about flesh wounds,or how Kevlar only protected you so much or Steve knowing what he is doing. It would only piss Danny off more.  
It didn't matter to Danny it was only a flesh wound. Danny bitched and yelled and swore at Steve for almost getting himself killed. For real this time. He was explaining to Steve that he wasn't prepared to lose a partner at this point and if Steve was still so determined to keep throwing himself on grenades then maybe they both needed to rethink their partnership.  
Steve let him rant. He wanted to tell Danny he would rather take a bullet any day of the week than see Danny go down. He figured Danny would calm down after a while and it would be OK.

By the time they got to the warehouse a couple of days later Danny still isn’t talking to him and Steve is way passed worried.

The assholes at the warehouse are the weirdest bunch of crooks Steve had seen so far and that is saying something. He has seen some really screwed up shit since going to work for Gov. Jameson. These guys take some kind of weird fucked-up cake though. They are trying to do everything. Nothing really bad-ass, bad enough to do some real jail time though. A little drug dealing, a little prostitution, running some guns and even this thing with betting on exotic animal fighting.

Cock fighting Steve knew about because it had been going on in the islands forever. But even that didn't excuse what they found in the back of the warehouse. Cages lined up in rows, piled up on top of each other five high and ten long. Off to the side, empty cages are tossed haphazardly, no longer any use to their former occupants. Steve could admit he is really glad they shut these assholes down. Still, there _are_ a few empty cages. Beside them are others filled with fighting roosters, rats, terriers, a ferret, three mongooses and an odd assortment of snakes that sent the officials from the Dept of Agriculture into fits of hysterics. Some crap about invasive species.

Frankly there is so much freaking out going on it is giving him a headache. He looks for Danny and sees only the back of his head across the warehouse, Danny is clearly doing his job as far away from Steve as he can get. Instead of thinking about that, Steve goes to find a couple bad guys to question on the other side of the property. The thought of what would’ve happened to those animals pisses him off, maybe there is someone over there he could “explain” that to. As fucked as it is, he is better at thinking about that than what might be happening with him and Danny.

By the time Steve is done, the Dept of Ag is long gone along with Animal Control and all the cages, including the empty ones.

So is the Camaro.

It is still an hour before Steve manages to point his truck away from the warehouse. He spends another couple hours on paperwork alone at the office. He finally pulls into his own driveway well after dark which made it a long-ass day even by Five-0 standards. He is fucking exhausted, wants a shower and a beer. Maybe some food.

He climbs out of his truck and spends a moment standing there talking himself into going into the dark empty house that seemed like it is going to stay dark and empty for the foreseeable future. He slammed the truck door, resigning himself to another evening sitting on the beach with a beer until he is tired enough that he won’t notice how empty the house really is. He tries not to think about how quiet it got when Danny is pissed enough at him to stop talking or coming around.

He can’t think about it any more because he can't figure out how to change it from what it is to what he wants it to be. Sorry didn't work now matter how much he meant it and he didn't have anything else.

Steve is almost to the front door when he hears a weird metallic thump and a sharp screech from the back of his truck. With his SIG out he moves along the side of the truck, looks quickly into the box, keeping his profile low.

At first it doesn't register what he's looking at. It is a cage like the ones at the warehouse and there is something moving in it. An agitated ball of blond-brown movement and sound and although Steve didn’t recognize the creature in the cage, he recognized its distress. The cage is barely the length of the animal inside and was practically vibrating from the frantic back and forth movement. The creature paused for a second to stare at Steve, and the squalling and chittering increased. Then its movements turn into a frenzy as it begins to to bite and tear at the metal of the cage with fierce-looking teeth.

Steve looks around guiltily, half hoping there would be someone else to deal with this. It occurs to him suddenly this thing had been in the back of his truck in the sun since the warehouse, almost 5 hours. No wonder the poor bastard is so frantic, with no food or water or shade in all that time. Steve isn't sure how the thing ended up here or exactly what the fuck he's supposed to do with it. But it is not dying of dehydration in the bed of his truck. So he grabs the handle of the cage, lifts it out.

As soon as he is inside the garage Steve realizes there is no water there either and it is just as hot in the garage as outside. He gives up and hauls the cage inside the house. The bathroom is cool and has plenty of water.

15 minutes later the cage is in the tub, a second bowl of water has been consumed and it sounds like the room is being dismantled. Steve can't really tell what is happening because he is on the wrong side of the door listening to the destruction. He is also kind of afraid to open the door in case the thing- a ferret he guessed- got loose and destroyed the rest of his house. But it is squawking and bitching and knocking shit everywhere and eventually he is going to have to pee. So he braces himself and opens the door. Except it turns out.. ferrets? are approximately 20 times faster on their feet than Seals.

“Son of a bitch!” Steve makes a grab for the escapee while trying to slam the door at the same time. The only thing he actually manages to do is slam his left thumb in the door. Really fucking hard. By the time he is done swearing, the ferret is out of sight and Steve is dripping blood on the floor standing there staring at his own reflection with a stupid look on his face., He hears the first thing in his nice neat, carefully arranged kitchen hit the floor.

The ferret is nowhere to be seen when Steve makes it to the kitchen but evidence of his-her-its passing is easy to spot. The minimal number of objects on the kitchen counter have been thoroughly disturbed, including the bowl of fresh fruit. It had all been tipped out of the bowl and rolled around, but looks none the worse for wear.

For as long as it takes Steve to wash the blood off his thumb and get a band-aid on it there is no sign of his frenetic invader. It’s been a long day and Steve needs something to eat. He decides to put off what to do about the invader while he figures out dinner. As soon as Steve opened the fridge door, a small blond and chocolate head pokes out of the cupboard under the sink. Steve watches out of the corner of his eye while he digs around looking for the makings of a meal.

One of the things Steve discovered he liked best about civilian life is also one of the hardest to get used to. Eating what he wants when he wants it, no longer dictated by necessity or availability. On any given day Steve eats whatever the hell he wants and it is awesome. Today? Chicken, and maybe a salad.

As soon as the lettuce and chicken make an appearance so does his house-guest. Noisily and with emphasis. It starts hopping around his feet and chirping and pawing at his pants leg. OK, so, hungry then. He ha no idea what to feed the damn thing. But it's a small rodent so probably the lettuce would be a good bet. Steve digs out a low-sided plastic storage dish and carefully puts lettuce pieces of varying sizes in and sets it down in a corner where the little guy will hopefully feel safe enough to eat.

It _attacks_ the dish. Enthusiasm quickly turned to frenzy when instead of gobbling the lettuce like McGarrett thought it would it up-ended the entire dish, then turns it over again. It paws through the spilled contents and it occurs to Steve the animal is searching for something that clearly isn't there.

Then the complaining starts again.

And the hopping around his legs. Steve is standing there holding the bag of thawed chicken trying to figure out what the problem is. The thing about frozen chicken after it thaws is...  it is kind of bloody. And drippy. He should have been holding it over the sink not watching the furry maniac freaking out at his feet. If he could speak ferret Steve is pretty sure he'd find out the thing is swearing up a storm. The complaints move onto a full blown rant. Then suddenly it's stone quiet. Steve looks down and there is the little terrorist licking chicken blood of the floor, beady little eyes closed in ecstasy. When the bloody spots on the floor are all gone, it turned its little face up and looks at the chicken with such longing there is no way Steve could resist.

Chicken breast for the carnivorous rodent.  Salad for Steve.... Yippee. At least it shut the damn thing up. Steve is almost done eating his salad before it occurs to him he might want to call someone from the Humane Society to come and get the little guy (girl... thing... whatever). It is a decent enough idea on the face of it. The problem of course is that by the time it occurs to him it's 9 pm on a Friday night.

He tries anyway.

After getting a busy signal approximately too-fucking-many times he finally gets ringing which is promptly ignored until an electronic voice informs him his party is not answering. 'No shit.' he thinks, irritated and goes to check the phone book for other options. The only listings under animal control are the Humane Society which, already not helpful, and professional pest removal. He decides to try his luck there.

His first call gets him a “Brah are you nuts? It's the weekend!” followed by a dial tone.

The second call is a 1-800 number that directed him to an electronic switch board and the first question is which state is he calling from. He hung up before it is done prompting him.

His third call got an answering machine informing him of useless, not-on-the-weekend office hours.

The fourth call? Made him want to commit murder.  
“So like a weasel kind of thing right? I got a trap for that. But disposal fee on the weekend gonna be high brah. Everything's closed. Plus regs says I gotta incinerate the carcass within like 8 hours max. But I could be there in the morning. Set out a couple traps. Have the thing done by lunch prolly.”  
Steve takes a deep calming breath and tries to explain that he doesn't want the thing killed only removed. He gets 15 seconds of confused silence and then, “What you wanna do that for brah? It's a kinda rat right?”

By the time that short conversation is over Steve is seriously contemplating tracking the asshole down and beating him to death with his own phone. He hangs up instead and tries the Humane Society—again.

All he got is a recorded message stating “Due to unusually high traffic we are unavailable to take your call at this this time. If it an emergency please contact—”

Steve looks over at the corner where his guest is currently curled into Steve's over-turned boot sleeping soundly. Which, okay Steve is pretty familiar with the smell of those boots and it is a question about how bright the animal is to pick _that_ particular spot to sleep. But it didn't seem like an emergency to Steve.  He hangs up and goes to bed.

Saturday is half over by the time Steve remembers he is supposed to phone the Humane Society again. He tries once and gets the answering machine again, so he says fuck it, locks the ferret in the john and heads to the corner grocery for dinner and some more chicken. And a couple of those cat litter thingies. Turns out he isn’t real fond of picking ferret shit up out of all the corners in his house. He is purposely not thinking about any implied ....anything in buying stuff for the ferret, it is expedient, that is all.

Steve is actually pretty good at lying to himself when he wants to be.

                                                                                                                           *

Sunday is good. He doesn't even bother calling the Humane society since they are probably closed. He thinks about phoning Danny so he can listen to him bitch about the parent supervisor thing he is doing for Grace's scout troop that weekend. But Danny is still pretty pissed at him and Steve didn't really want to risk a stilted conversation Danny couldn't wait to end. He steadfastly ignores the drop in his stomach when he thinks about Danny staying mad at him. He doesn't want to think about what it would be like if- Fuck it thinking about this anymore is pointless and just makes him feel helpless. He goes out to the garage to find something to do.

He spends hours going through boxes of crap, part of the ongoing project of clearing the house out a little more. He knows it isn’t really healthy to be surrounded by artifacts of his fathers life. Didn’t make it any easier though and he hates doing it for very long. After a few hours he wanders back into the house with his furry guest hard on his heels seeming to look forward to what ever they are going to do next.

Somehow most of the soft looking rags in one of the boxes ends up in the bottom of the cage the ferret arrived in. After a huge sandwich for Steve and chicken for his new buddy, Steve ends up on the couch watching football with a beer while his guest sleeps curled in the cage.

It turns out ferrets snore.

Steve grills a steak for dinner and Weazy (what? he couldn't keep calling it ‘it’.) eats the leftovers. Very efficient.

A call from the Governor's office ensures that his Monday starts way earlier than it should have. Steve stumbles out the door before he is really awake. He is 8 blocks from home before he remembers the ferret. He turns the truck around.

Steve is at the crime scene only a few minutes behind the rest of the team but Danny still feels the need to comment “We interrupt your beauty sleep there McGarrett?”

It is easier to just grunt at him and keep walking, rather than to explain the backtracking and detour to a corner store for cat food and chicken. Besides they have a terrified 8 year old to find.  
Monday didn’t really end, it just kind of rolled into Tuesday and after an hour or 2 of sleep on the couch in his office he is hard at it again. No one is really interested in wasting time on shit like sleep when someone’s kid needs saving.

It is almost dark Tuesday when they all finally watch the found boy cling to his father’s neck. It isn't just another day at the office and they are heading out to down a few beers together when Steve suddenly remembers Weazy. At home, alone for almost 2 days. He makes excuses and goes tearing home hoping there is still something left of his house. He absolutely is not worried about the ferret. He also totally misses the hurt look on Danny's face.

Steve doesn't even have his boots off before he is accosted by a frantic animal leaping around his feet squeaking and bitching and scrabbling at his pant legs. After a quick check of food bowls and determining there is still food and water Steve realizes the little guy is most likely lonely. “Alright!” he says, heading for the fridge “Keep your pants on!” He grabs himself a beer and drops the last of the chicken into the food bowl before heading to sit on the couch.

Weazy doesn’t even look at the fresh food just tags along with Steve, scurrying up on to the sofa the moment he sits down. After 15 minutes of tearing around, mauling Steve's feet, running in and out of his boots, banging in and out of the cupboards and then madly climbing the furniture, Steve is finally left in peace to eat a sandwich while the Mad Weasel goes to eat. He wakes up sometime after midnight sprawled on the couch with his new pal draped over the back of it. Snoring. Steve manages to get him into his cage without waking him up, before he goes to find his own bed.

By Wednesday morning Steve is finally admitting to himself that he had a pet ferret named Weazy. He is fine with that but holy fuck, he isn't really looking froward to getting endless shit at work about it.

Wednesday is only going to be endless paper work so Steve takes an hour to do some proper shopping. He is out of meat and beer and that just isn't cool. There is a pet store right beside the market he stops at, but Steve didn’t really have time to do much more than make a quick stop for ferret food. Danny isn't really a patient guy and Steve only had so much time before he is risking pissing his partner off worse. Steve isn’t really up for an hour long rant about stiffing people with all the paper work. So it is in and out, quick and dirty, drop off his groceries and stuff at home, then break a few speed limits back to headquarters.

It didn't work though. Danny is so clearly pissed, Steve feels a little guilty. Still when Danny asks why he is late, Steve lobbed out an excuse about needing to shop and hid in his office. He might willing to admit to himself he has a pet ferret. He isn't willing to get harassed about it. Danny probably wouldn't be a total dick about it, but it would still feel weird trying to explain it. As if admitting he likes having company at home is an admission of an unacceptable weakness. It is easier to just say nothing. Steve determinately ignores the fact that it is mostly Danny's opinion he is worried about.

He makes a plan to head out a little early and hit the pet store again. If the little shit disturber is staying he needs some supplies. Shit. He needs to find out what a ferret actually _needs_.

Steve is scrolling through a ridiculous number of websites about how to care for your ferret when Danny comes in.

“ Hey McGarrett I know how much you love paper work “ he snipes heading for Steve's desk “but we're heading out to grab some lunch.” It's clearly an olive branch and Steve is taking it.

Steve scrambles to close all the windows he has open. Danny seems like he might not be so pissed , so now is definitely not the time to get caught dicking around doing _ferret research_ instead of cleaning up case reports the way he should be. He tries not to look like he is hiding anything. The uncertainty in Danny's voice when he asks “You coming?” without really looking at Steve is proof he failed.

“Fuck yeah, I'm starving!” Steve says realizing not only is it true but that he spent the whole morning in his office and hasn't even really talked to Danny today. He's been distracted and can see the results on his friend’s face. He doesn't even have a name for how shitty it made him feel that he'd put that look on Danny's face “are are we going?” he asked,grabbing his wallet determined to undo it.

He is ready for things to go back to the way they were before Steve threw himself between Danny and a bullet. Even though Steve still had no clue why his partner is so pissed off about it in the first place, because seriously what was he supposed to do? Stand there and watch this amazing guy _get shot_? Still it doesn't seem like the time to try apologizing again. Maybe buying him lunch will help. Hell Danny can even pick the spot. At this point Steve is willing to do just about anything.

By the time they get back to the office after lunch the smile is firmly back on Danny's face. Mission accomplished Steve thinks smiling to himself. The rest of the day is easy the way it has always been. Danny spends a couple of hours in Steve’s office, filling in forms, going over his own notes, and bitching about Steve's messy handwriting. Steve only checks his watch a couple times to see how close it is to quitting time. He wants to make sure his house is still intact and absolutely is not missing the furry maniac. He can admit he would rather be at home on the lanai with a beer than stuck here pushing paper, even if it is with Danny.

“You got somewhere you gotta be?” Danny asks and Steve realizes he's been checking the time again.

“What? No! I just.. It's been a long day and I'm looking forward to kicking back instead of being buried under a mountain of paper.” trying for nonchalant clearly doesn’t work, that look is starting to creep back onto Danny's face.

“Oh” Danny says quietly, the uncertainty in his voice makes the bottom kind of drop out of Steve's stomach. Again. He's missed Danny all week. Sitting around having a beer after work just isn’t the same without him.

“You uh—you want to come over? We'll throw a couple of steaks on the grill?” Steve asks wanting to get rid of that look. He wants to just hang out again, wants Danny back where he belongs.

“ Sure” Danny says casually, the relief a palpable undercurrent in his voice. “I could go for a steak. Maybe I'll grab some beers?”

Steve answers with a nod and a grin. He isn't even thinking about what's waiting for him at home when he leaves work. He is thinking about how relieved he is to be grilling steaks and drinking beer with the guy who for all intents and purposes is his best friend, although he tries really hard not to sound so 13 year-old girl about it in his head. He pulls into the driveway before he remembers what is going to happen as soon as he opens the front door. The Camaro pulls in behind him and Steve mutters “Fuck!” under his breath and gets out of the truck. He decides to just play it cool and brace himself internally for the shit Danny is bound to give him over this.

The house is completely quiet when he opens the door. He tries to look around without being obvious but there is no sign of Weazy anywhere. He is obviously sleeping and will show up when he figures out Steve is home. Danny doesn’t seem to notice the food bowls in the kitchen so Steve takes advantage of the reprieve and heads to the fridge to swap Danny’s warm beers out for a couple of cold ones.

He hears a thump from upstairs and doesn’t respond. Danny perks right up though, instantly susipcious.

“Did you hear that?” he says  alert, listening for more, his hand unconsciously moving toward his service weapon.

“ Hmm?” Steve says noncommittally and waits to see what Danny will do. He looks a little freaked out and Steve sits back and waits. It would probably be too much to ask for Weazy to sneak up on them and scare Danny into screaming like a girl. Especially since the little fucker is incapable of sneaking up on anything. Steve can hear him come down the stairs. He is noisy as hell and his progress is easy to track. He rattles into the kitchen doing that chirping thing again and comes ripping over to Steve.

“Holy shit!” Danny says and the ferret startles. Weazy tries to stop abruptly but instead ends up skidding sideways across the floor into a chair, almost knocking it over. Danny makes a grab for the chair clearly trying to keep it from crashing on top of the little guy. He catches the chair, but also scares the ferret even worse and Weazy immediately starts hissing and trying to back away.

Danny instantly goes still and Steve has a moment to admire his instincts. Steve learned early on how easy it is to scare the little guy by trying to move in when he is freaked out.

“Hey buddy” Steve says quietly. Weazy looks at him and quickly hops over to hide behind Steve's legs.

“That's a ferret!” Danny says dumbfounded.

“ Nice work detective” Steve responds sarcastically and hands him a beer, still playing it totally cool and heading out onto the lanai.

“What's it doing here?” Danny asks taking his beer and following.

“ Hissing at you for scaring the shit out of him?” Steve suggests dropping onto a lounge chair.

Danny scowls at him sourly and takes a swig of his beer. Steve watches while the light bulb goes off in his brain “Holy shit ! You stole it from that bust at the warehouse!”

“ I did not steal him, Danny” trying to sound affronted at the suggestion he'd break the law.

“ You totally stole it! I saw you going all green and getting pissed off about the animals they had there. And I know you where terrorizing that idiot ring-leader when no one was looking.” He looks way to smug for Steve's comfort.

“ I didn't steal him” grumbles doing some scowling of his own.

“ OK. Where'd he come from then?”

“He is just there in the back of my truck when I got home. I guess some one put him in my truck by mistake”

“ And he's still here because?” Danny prompts.

“ I couldn't get any one from the humane society on the phone.”

“ All week?”

“ Well no. On the weekend.”

“ And?'

“ Well Monday was... Monday. And turned into Tuesday by the time we were done with that one.  
It was too late to do anything about it when I got home. I just decided fuck it. He's cool, he can stay.” Steve braces himself for the teasing or outright laughter.

“Huh” Danny says and takes another pull of his beer “ We gonna fire up that grill?.” Steve feels like he's dodged a bullet until Danny asks “You give him a name yet?”

He laughed himself sick when Steve told him Weazy is short for weasel. “That's pretty fucking cute McGarrett.” But Steve is willing to take the hit if it is gonna get Danny smiling and laughing with him again.

Weazy stays in the house even though the door is open, while Danny relaxes on the lounger and lets Steve do his thing with the grill. After a few minutes Steve sees the ferret peak around the door. Weazy watches Danny for a second, ducking back behind the door frame if Danny so much as moves. Danny appears to be ignoring him. After another couple of minutes Weazy is still just sitting in the doorway watching them both making those weird little noises of his. “What are you chirping about you little glutton? You think I'm giving you a steak? You're dreaming. Go eat your chicken.”

“Dooking.” Danny says.

Steve turns to look at him “ What?”

“The noise he's making. It's called dooking. They do it when they're happy.”

Steve just lifts an eyebrow and waits for Danny to explain.

“Guy I shared a place with in college had a ferret. Cute little thing, called her Xena. She isn’t very bad ass though, always running around playing and shit. Except he fed her live mice which is more gross than bad-ass. She loved to play though. Made a lot of weird noises, like dooking.” Danny smiles at the memory.

The steaks are great and the beer is good and by the time they are done eating,Weazy is hopping around under the table, pretty much just begging. Steve pretends not to notice Danny sneaking bits of bloody steak to him.  
“If you're keeping him you should take him to the vet get him checked out. He looks pretty healthy but they aren't really that tough.” Danny looks over to where the little guy is playing with a paper tube. “So you keeping him?”

“Planned to.” Steve says. “He kind of reminds me of you.”

“What the fuck?”

“He bitches a lot and he's always freaking out about something. Best way to shut him up is feed him.”

“Funny.” Danny says, sounding more amused than annoyed. Steve feels the rest of his worry about what is going to happen start to ease even if it's not entirely gone.

Weazy knocks over the boot he is playing in and his chirping turns to complaints as he assaults the laces.

“You should get some kind of tube for him too play in. It's like a den and he'll love it.” Danny looks over at Steve and Steve make a decision.

“We could do that Saturday.” Steve says. Danny smiles and nods, takes a swig of his beer and goes back to ferret watching.

 

Friday the team comes over for a few beers. Kono laughs herself stupid about Steve's “pet rat” and Chin spends an hour rolling one of his own balled up socks across the floor for Weazy to chase. All in all Steve doesn't get nearly as much shit about it as he expected. He decides to make a vet appointment as soon as he can when Kono asked him how he knew Weazy is a male and Chin asks if he “checked,” while Danny just sits there and laughs at his discomfort.

Steve is okay with it as long as Danny is here and laughing.

Danny stays on after Chin and Kono are gone. Steve heads back out on the lanai with fresh beers, suspecting Danny has something to say. Steve sits quietly watching Weazy sleeping on Danny's lap and waits.

Danny takes a breath “I know it's too much to ask you to—to not take risks. I know you need to try to save everyone. I get it, I do.“ Danny stops, but he doesn’t look at Steve when he pauses, only down at where his new pal is sleeping. “ But it is too much for you to ask me to watch while you keep throwing yourself on live grenades. One day it will get you killed and that... I can't watch that Steve. I can't”

Weazy snuffles and rolles into a tighter ball, but it doesn't draw a smile from Danny “ I just—” Danny looks at him then, “Can you just be a little less eager to throw yourself in front of a bullet? For me?”

Steve feels his gut clench at Danny's bravery that he's the one to get so close to what they have been dancing around all these months. Still Danny has to know, to understand what Steve had really been doing that day. “I did it for you Danny. That fucker would have shot you and you would never have—he would’ve shot you.” Steve looks right back hoping Danny will get it. “I don't want to watch that either.” They both knew he'd seen enough of that shit for a lifetime.

“ Well how about this. You watch my back, I'll watch yours and nobody throws themselves in front of anything without thinking about it first. Then maybe we'll have the time we need to figure this,” he moves his hand gesturing between them, “ what ever it's gonna be, out”

 

Saturday Danny helps Steve spend an absurd amount of money on ferret toys and beds and food. It is worth it though. His house is rarely too quiet or empty any more between Weazy being there and Danny being big and loud and present. When they make dinner together that night they discover pasta isn't really Weazy's thing.

It had turned out to be a pretty good week.


End file.
